Verona's thoughts
by laiq
Summary: The thought process and Patrick's point of view during Dance little sister.


He braced himself as the Stratford tornado flew directly into his path. He knew he should have tried to at least avoid it, but somehow he just couldn't bring himself to keep away from the crazy. Somehow the storm was always just captivating enough to be worth the effort of staying rather than running.

He only half listened to the younger Stratford, as he watched the mortification of the other. It was amusing for only the briefest of moments, and then he just felt the backwash of her embarrassment hit him like a tidal wave, and he was caught up in it himself. The idea of attending a school function appalled him but the realisation that he truly couldn't say no without causing Kat further anguish hit like a blunt hammer. He tried to suppress the part of his brain that leapt with delight at the idea; it was an easy get out, the best possible way to actually get closer to Kat without denting her fragile feministic pride too much. However the delight started to bubble out of him as he teased her about the possibility of seeing her in a dress. He revelled in her look of astonishment, enjoying shaking her to the core.

…

Patrick still hadn't worked out quite what he'd said wrong the night he kissed her. He'd thought about it so many times, and yet his memories always seemed to get stuck on the moments before that, the kiss replaying in his mind over and over again. The feel of her finally submitting, just a little and the grip on his shirt as she still struggled for some slight control caused something in him to stir, a something he'd never quite felt before.

However he realised that actually he hadn't really got her measure before then, but he was beginning to get it. Yes, she was strong and self reliant, she didn't need to be alluring to men to make herself feel worthwhile, but no matter how she presented herself to the outside world there was still a part of her that desperately wanted to be the girl swept off her feet by Prince Charming. She wanted to be adored and cherished just as much as any of the girls who fluttered around like superficial butterflies. It didn't even surprise him that much to find out he actually wanted to be the guy to sweep her off her feet.

That was the reason he sent the text message, he told himself. Let her believe that she was all he had been thinking about, and his anticipation of spending the evening with her would hopefully make her smile and maybe break down that tough exterior just a little more. He tried not to think about the fact that all he had been thinking about was her.

…

Patrick now got it; their Father was protective of his girls to epic proportions. And yet his gut reactions were not telling him to flee. He could sit through this as long as it meant he could still take Kat out. He heard her coming, and fought his natural instincts to turn and look at her straight away. He spent a moment bracing himself yet again, ready to try and tame this tornado of a girl. When he finally turned he spent a moment drinking her in, he'd vastly underestimated the impact she would have on him and was almost grateful for her Father's hand turning his face away those painful movements reminded him to breathe.

He couldn't help the teasing comments about his bike though. If there is a button, he just cannot resist pushing it. The reaction was worth it, restoring his shaky balance on the situation. The added bonus was the look of agitation on Kat's face. No longer did she look quite so intimidating beautiful than he could think of northing else but kissing her. He could get through this night with his cool aloofness intact, he hoped.

…

Hell. He was in hell. And yet hell had a bright side. She was standing next to him, and he leant into her, just a little. It was enough to let every guy around know that this beautiful creature was not available to anyone accept him. The conversation was faltering and awkward but yet she gave him the perfect opening. The slow music started, and he wanted nothing more than to hold her in his arms right then. Did she not realise how easy she could be to manipulate? All he had to do was challenge her ability and she was ready to prove him wrong, and as she grabbed his hand and dragged him to the dance floor he couldn't hold the smirk in. Just for a few minutes at least he might have a chance of forgetting the surrounding hell, and just be.

He couldn't take his eyes off of her as he held her. He'd never seen her look as vulnerable as she did right then. Her uncertainty held so much charm it was all he could do to stop himself from turning into Prince Charming and sweeping her off her feet. To control the intensity of his feelings he fell back on his mysterious safety net, and just smouldered at her. He had to keep this emotional pace crawling along like a snail; otherwise he would screw up again, and spook her away. He really didn't want to do that.

He felt her relax finally, her hands resting on his shoulders. If he could just keep her there her hands would continue to move, maybe even relax behind his neck and he could just draw her in a little closer. He cursed the sudden influx of upbeat music and for a few stumbling moments he lost his cool, and his mouth blurting out stupid clichéd comments. He was glad as she called him out on it, and guided him off the dance floor. The fact that her hands remained on his back filled him with hope, she wasn't ready to lose their connection either.

…

Now they'd detached from the raging hormones of the crowd below, he felt the familiarity in her presence. The enjoyable mockery of the couple's argument below gave him time to regain his composure. It also served as a reminder as to what captivated him about this woman, she didn't want to be a simpering and simplistic Barbie doll. She wanted be his equal on every level. He still hoped to call her "baby" though.

They turned together, and he smiled as she thanked him for the night of the fire. He tried to throw her off from his "heroic" gesture by bringing up the kiss first, which for him had been the pinnacle of his evening and anything after that had been a useless token of apology. He felt inadequate when she bought it up though; it hadn't felt a task worthy of mentioning again. But it did ignite a small fire of pride when she thanked him – it was something that clearly had touched her. He liked it when they could talk like this, teasing and genuine feelings all folding together, and no bravado masking the sincerity.

He turned to look at her, his hand reaching out to affectionately stroke her hair on instinct. He'd been itching to touch her again and he'd been caught off guard by her apology. He wanted to carry on with this relaxed tone that had developed between the two of them, but he knew that in this environment it would never happen. He sat back, physically crossing his arms to prevent any chance he would take it too fast, again. He suggested that they took off. There was so much more he wanted to know about Kat and this wasn't the place for any deep philosophical conversations. He was surprised when she didn't seem completely against the idea, and for a brief moment he dreamt of taking her to his favourite spot on the beach. He noted her mocking comment at his suggestion, but he couldn't help but respond with the idea of giving her a piggyback ride. He still felt playful after their banter and he was aware the more he relaxed her the more she would let those huge defences down. He noted the doubt in her eyes and knew exactly how to counter it, he threw down the thinly veiled challenge. He lent towards her as he promised not to kiss her again, using every ounce of control he had not to do just that. Even from that distance he could feel sparks of electricity zapping around them, their own little thunderstorm of attraction. He was rewarded by her response, the fighting spirit ready to match him at every turn. As he got up to use the bathroom, he realised he'd still not told her how good she looked tonight, he held her gaze as he laid down the compliment glad that just for those few moments she accepted it with her silence. The thunderstorm of attraction raged on around them, but holding her gaze gave him the eerie peace, the centre of their hurricane.

…

He was amused to find Keith in the bathrooms, and not surprised by his condition. It felt good to admit that he was on a date, and more than that he was enjoying it too. He felt a small spark of anticipation as he thought about the rest of the evening. He was so wrapped up in Kat he didn't feel the initial tremors of warning until it was too late, and suddenly he was up to his neck in trouble, and the ground had split open, leaving him on the wrong side of the chasm to Kat.

He tried to spot her as he was dragged out by the law enforcement, and he almost got free when he finally spotted her through the window, if only she would turn around, so she could see this wasn't him bailing on her.

As he was finally shoved into the patrol car, he wasn't sure how he'd managed to screw it all up yet again.


End file.
